


Crush

by Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)



Category: First Monday
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-16
Updated: 2012-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It just figured that he'd go from not liking Julian at all, straight to liking him too much without ever coming near the point where he simply <i>liked</i> him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crush

There was no way around it: Julian Lodge was a pompous ass, an obnoxious know-it-all, and an immoral jerk with a superiority complex. Jerry might have been better than Miguel or Ellie at enduring his company with patient indulgence, but that didn't mean that he _liked_ Julian.

But Jerry was a polite guy, and they had to work together, and he had an inkling that it might be in his best interest to stay in Julian's good graces, so he didn't decline Julian's offer to have coffee together, one rainy Sunday in April when Julian suddenly turned up at the door of Justice Novelli's office to drag Jerry away with him. 

Jerry had been busy working through a never-shrinking pile of petitions for the last thirty-something hours, with only minor breaks for food and coffee. He had no idea why Julian was even around on a weekend, but for all he knew, the guy had no life outside the office whatsoever. The thing was, he was tired and overworked, and he thought if he saw even one more file note he'd probably start screaming. He welcomed the distraction, even if he'd have preferred different company – ideally Kayla's. But it was Julian he was stuck with.

And then he said something – afterwards, he wouldn't even remember what it was: some silly, inconsequential, semi-witty quip about how he thought he'd outgrown his addiction to coffee shops when he finished law school – and Julian _smiled_ at him. It wasn't his usual fake polite smile that he used when he was trying to charm people into giving him the information he wanted, nor was it the insufferable smirk that always seemed to drive Miguel to the verge of physical violence. It was a real, actual smile, sweet and lopsided and a little dopey, one that Jerry had never seen before on Julian's face. 

It instantly, momentarily took his breath away, and right in that second he knew he was fucked.

He'd been down this road often enough during his high school and college days to know how it went: how every flaw that used to make Julian a pain in the ass would now end up being endearing, how he'd start wondering what was hiding beneath the suits and the bowties, how Julian's insistence to hang out with him would turn into a different level of uncomfortable. That thought almost ripped a bitter, mirthless laughter from Jerry's throat because it just figured that he'd go from not liking Julian at all, straight to liking him too much without ever coming near the point where he simply _liked_ him.

And maybe that should have made it easy, because it wasn't like there was a friendship at risk. But this was Julian, and Jerry remembered only too well how a teasing joke about how they might not both be as heterosexual as Julian claimed they were had sent the man practically running in the opposite direction and resulted in apprehensive, shifty glances following him for weeks, which only stopped after Julian had caught him flirting with Kayla. The one thing a crush on Julian Lodge would definitely be was _not easy_.

He realized he'd been staring at Julian's mouth, where the smile had long since fallen away, and Julian was looking at him with a quizzical expression.

"Sorry. I kinda zoned out there." 

Julian wordlessly raised a single eyebrow, and Jerry couldn't help but smile and wryly add, "It's been a long two days."

"About that—" 

He knew where this was going, and he stopped Julian before he could get to the question. 

"Don't even ask!" It was meant to come out as a warning, a subtle threat that if Julian pursued this line of questioning, Jerry would get up and walk out on him. But his tone was all wrong, and he hated how the traces of amusement took the edge away.

"You realize that I _will_ eventually find out what the three of you have done to unleash Justice Novelli's wrath and the entire load of petitions on you?" Julian pointed out.

"Maybe," Jerry conceded with a smile. "But not from me."

Julian's eyebrow climbed higher, and Jerry knew that he had taken that as a challenge. The worst part was, Jerry didn't mind.

He was – so – fucked.

* * *

As crushes went, this one proved to be hard to shake off. 

It didn't help that Julian always seemed to be _there_. Of course, that was Julian for you – he probably thought he would miss something important if he didn't make an appearance in Justice Novelli's office at least once every day with some specious, transparent justification. It used to be annoying, but now it made Jerry uncomfortable on a whole new level, because he had to be cautious not to give himself away. 

For the most part, he thought he succeeded – and if he smiled instead of scowled when Julian was around, or if his eyes followed the guy's retreating form with an expression that was probably just a little too interested, no one noticed. Or, if they noticed, they didn't mention it.

It was a small comfort. It didn't change the fact that he needed this to stop, and soon.

He kept asking Kayla out, but she kept saying no. 

When, one day, he told Miguel at lunch about Kayla's insistence not to date anyone she was working with, Julian appeared out of nowhere behind him, obviously having overheard at least part of the conversation. 

"Smart woman," he said, smirking. "Office romances have a tendency to end badly."

He patted Jerry's shoulder in a condescending manner that really, really shouldn't have made Jerry smile but did anyway, before he vanished into the crowd.

"We never asked for your opinion," Miguel called after him, and then, under his breath, "Asshole." 

For weeks afterwards, every time Jerry ran into Julian, his mind kindly provided a replay of Julian's mocking drawl curling around the words 'office romance' and then proceeded to offer an appealing mental image of how the guy would look if Jerry just pushed him against the next available flat surface and kissed him until he ran out of smart-ass comments.

It was like he had regressed back into puberty.

* * *

Miraculously, he made it through five months of painfully annoying, embarrassing crushing without making any particularly overt move on what he knew must have been the most inappropriate object of affection ever.

October paradoxically came both too soon and not quite quickly enough, and before he knew it they were cleaning out their desks for the new clerks. 

He hadn't seen Julian all week – not since the last court date, and his long absence from their office would have been outright abnormal under other circumstances. But then, it wasn't like there was any information Julian would have to sneak around for now. The bitterness that came with that observation didn't surprise Jerry, and he was almost glad for it. Bitterness was good, especially when it made him angry enough not to do stupid things like go and seek out Julian himself. 

Then their successors turned up, two fresh-faced guys and a blonde woman with an attitude whom Miguel labelled "the ice queen" within five minutes of their introduction, and the day passed in a rush without giving Jerry any more spare time to mope over Julian.

* * *

"So what do you say," Miguel had asked, slipping into his jacket and reaching for the large grey box with all his personal belongings. "Are we going for a drink tonight?"

He'd been looking at Jerry and Ellie expectantly, and when neither showed much enthusiasm for the suggestion, he pressed on. "Come on, guys, we gotta celebrate the occasion!"

Then, Jerry hadn't been sure exactly what occasion merited a celebration. Yet somehow Miguel had bullied both him and Ellie long enough until they'd finally agreed, and once they were out of the office, sharing a bottle of Bourbon and speculating how the new clerks would fare, Jerry realized that it had been a good idea.

In a way, it felt like freedom, knowing he wouldn't have to get up early the next morning, that he could sleep in, read the morning paper without hurry, go for a walk in the park and enjoy the glorious autumn weather. 

It was the first time in an entire year that he'd stayed out – not in the office, but actually having _fun_ – until past midnight, and he was enjoying every second of it.

There was a lingering nostalgia, though, and Ellie was the one who, at a late hour, voiced what they were all thinking. "I can't believe that it's over. I mean, the last year was tough and impossibly hard work, and Alex— "

She faltered for a split second before taking a breath and pressing on. "But, you know, it was still the best year of my life. And now it's just— over. I'm not sure anything that happens now will ever match up." 

"I'm sure it will." Jerry knew how to speak with a conviction he didn't feel; it was what made him a good lawyer, and that was why his voice sounded firm and optimistic now even when he shared Ellie's worries. "There are great jobs waiting for us, cases that might change the fate of the country." 

Miguel nodded and offered Ellie a quick grin. "You never know. Maybe one day we'll be the ones in Justice Novelli's seat, ordering wide-eyed hapless clerks around." 

He raised his glass. 

"To the future!" Jerry announced, and they all drank to that, the sounds of glass gently hitting glass filling the air.

"There's one good thing," Miguel said, deadpan, when they left the bar and stepped into the cool October night. "We never have to see Julian again." 

He slung his arm around Ellie's shoulder, and Jerry abruptly remembered the brush of Julian's breath against his ear when, a couple of months ago – shortly after Ellie and Miguel officially started dating, Julian had leaned in and conspiratorially whispered, 'So, how long do you think it'll be before the two of them try to kill each other?'

Beside him, Ellie laughed and playfully chided her boyfriend. "That's not nice. True, though."

Miguel was right; he was probably never going to see Julian again, and the realization was a punch to the gut. It should have made him happy because now he could finally get over this stupid crush, but the only thing he could think of was that he never even said goodbye.

Ellie must have read something in his expression because she suddenly stopped and gave him a long, hard look. 

"Jerry?" she asked, inquisitively, and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to answer. Then, after a moment, she spoke again and her voice was softer now. "You liked him, didn't you?"

Miguel snorted. "Oh, come on! Who would like Julian Lodge?" 

Who, indeed. A tired little sigh slipped from Jerry's lips, condensing in the cold air like fading smoke. "No, I didn't. I don't like him." 

He told himself it wasn't even a lie. Not really.

* * *

It was two in the morning when he got home. He thought he was probably a little drunk and definitely too awake for this hour, and he'd never felt lonelier in his whole life. 

Dropping on the bed like dead weight, he stared at the ceiling and tried to think of anything else than Julian and his ridiculous bowties and the way his hair would stick up no matter how hard he tried to tame it and the sardonic rise of his eyebrow. 

The worst thing, Jerry thought, was that he was really going to miss the bastard, and he wondered when that had happened: how he'd gone from merely enduring Julian's presence to developing a crush to actually enjoying his company. 

_Pathetic_ , he thought. _You're pathetic._

He vowed to call Kayla in the morning and ask for a date, but even as he made the resolution, he knew he wouldn't do it.

* * *

He woke with a mind-numbing hangover, even though he couldn't remember having had that much to drink. The daylight was too bright and the sounds from the alarm-clock he'd forgotten to turn off last night grated on his nerves like chalk on a blackboard.

 _This is it, then_ , he thought, _the first day of the rest of your life._

The thought almost made him physically sick because – yeah, sure, he already had a job with a renowned New York law firm specializing in corporate law that he would start in a month; it wasn't like he didn't know what he was going to do with the rest of his life. And yet, the knowledge that with the end of the clerkship, this part of his life was over for good hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. No more reviewing petitions, no more arguing with Ellie and Miguel, no more memos to convince Justice Novelli of his point of view. No more basketball games forced on him, no more conspiratorial glances exchanged with Justice Novelli when Ellie and Miguel were having their infamous fights about the fundamental rights and wrongs in the middle of the office and they forgot that other people were in the room. No more lectures from Julian about how it would be in Novelli's best interest to see things from Justice Brankin's perspective.

When he forced himself out of bed, his eyes fell on his cell phone on the nightstand, and he dimly remembered that he'd wanted to call Kayla. He picked the phone up, only to put it down again a second later. 

He went to the kitchen and gulped down a glass of water. Outside, it was raining. 

_First day of the rest of my life. Go figure._

* * *

It was shortly after six when the doorbell rang. He'd spent a dissatisfyingly unproductive, lazy day, the highlight of which was that he'd managed to clean out his wardrobe. In the afternoon, he had briefly thought of calling up Ellie and Miguel, but he wasn't really in the mood for company. And, if he were to be honest, his urge to meet up with them had more to do with the fact that, after a year of living in each other's pockets, it was weird not to see them for an entire weekend than with a genuine desire to hang out.

Still, when the bell went off, he thought it might be them because maybe they felt the same way, or possibly his landlord wanting to know when he was leaving for New York. Instead, when he opened the door, he found the last person he had expected at his doorstep.

"Julian!" He blinked.

He blamed it on the shock that he said the first dumb thing that came to his mind. "I almost didn't recognize you without the bowtie."

The joke was so lame it made him wince as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but Julian only rolled his eyes and offered a surprisingly good-natured, easy smile. "I know this must come as a terrible shock to you, but I even own a pair of jeans."

"I bet you last wore them back in college."

Julian shrugged. "Pretty much. Not so many occasions to wear them, lately. And they don't go too well with the bowtie, you know."

Jerry chuckled. "So, what brings you here?"

"Oh. Well, I thought maybe it would be nice to have dinner. I mean, seeing as this is our first weekend off for basically a year and there's no meeting to rush to or memo to write. And since we'll both be off to New York soon – congratulations on landing the job with Markham & Chappell, by the way, I'm _almost_ jealous – it's probably also going to be the last weekend off for a while. So I figured we might as well relax and enjoy the evening."

Julian's flood of words made Jerry's head ache. Not to mention that his reasoning didn't even make much sense to begin with.

"I could have had other plans!" Jerry argued, wishing he could find some of the old annoyance over Julian's presumptuousness. Beyond the confusion and the mild worry about what exactly Julian's motives might be, though, he was simply too happy to see the guy.

"But you don't." Julian's eyes raked over him, no doubt taking in the old jeans and wrinkled shirt and making a disapproving mental note. Even when he wasn't wearing a suit and a bowtie, just plain black pants and a white shirt, Julian looked… _good enough to eat_ , flashed through Jerry's mind, and he quickly mentally corrected the description to 'immaculate'. 

"No, I don't," he admitted.

Julian's face visibly brightened. "Great!" He produced a bottle of wine from behind his back. "I brought wine."

Wine? Jerry stared at the bottle, momentarily taken aback. He'd assumed they would eat out. "Wait. You want me to _cook_?"

Julian shrugged. "I already brought the wine, so I figured I'd leave the cooking to you," he said, as if that was justification enough. To him, it probably was.

"And you couldn't have brought some take-out as well, while you were at it."

"Please!" Julian's nose wrinkled in a way that indicated the mere suggestion of eating take-out deeply offended his culinary sensibilities. "After having lunch at the court cafeteria for a year, don't you finally want something real to eat?"

"I don't even _want_ to know how you found out that I cook."

There it was, the trademark Julian Lodge smirk, and, dammit, it worked his way through Jerry's defences until he sighed and agreed. "Fine. Come in. But I'm warning you - if you brought your own special spices and peppers with you, I'll take that as a personal insult to my cooking skills."

Dinner was... well, it wasn't awkward, exactly, but Jerry had no idea why the hell Julian had turned up on his doorstep in the first place, and it was driving him insane. 

It was downright surreal, the way Julian was acting like it was the most normal thing in the world, as if they'd been having each other over in their apartments for dinner for months. As if Julian was _at home_ here, leaning against Jerry's kitchen counter with a glass of wine in his hand and talking about his new job. Julian looked relaxed, comfortable – the exact opposite of how Jerry felt.

And suddenly, the idea that Julian might want them to just sort of… slip into an easy friendship scared the hell out of Jerry. He wasn't sure if he could do this, if he could hang out and keep pretending that he didn't want to kiss Julian or slide a hand through his hair to find out whether it was as soft as it looked.

"So, corporate law, really? I would have bet you would go into civil law. You know, something where you can do the right thing." Julian air-quoted the last words, and Jerry rolled his eyes.

"You're confusing me with Ellie. You know – petite, long brown hair, had a desk right across from mine?" He put his empty glass into the kitchen sink, wondering whether he should offer Julian another drink.

Behind him, Julian said, "I assure you, I'm not confusing you with anyone."

When Jerry turned back around, Julian had crossed the room and was right _there_ , almost close enough to be in Jerry's personal space, his stare almost frighteningly intense in the harsh shadows of the neon light. And before Jerry could wrap his mind around what was happening, he found himself being pushed back against the counter and Julian's lips on his, sure and insistent and confident, nothing like he'd imagined their first kiss to be on the not-so-rare occasion he had thought about it. 

_Julian is kissing me_ , Jerry's brain helpfully informed him. He was too stunned even to respond until Julian broke away. Jerry stared at him slack-jawed, waiting for some kind of explanation.

There was an unhappy frown creasing between Julian's eyebrows. " _Please_ tell me I haven't been reading this wrong." 

Something in his voice was unfamiliar, almost as if he was... insecure – a word Jerry had never before associated with Julian Lodge, and a sentiment that suited Julian so badly that Jerry instantly hated to see it written all over his face.

"No! No, I just— I didn't think— I didn't think you were— I mean, you never— You're—" Conservative. Repressed. Straight. Except, maybe not. "You were hitting on Ellie!"

Julian's uncharacteristic uncertainty melted away, replaced by the familiar smugness. "Unlike some people," he said, giving Jerry a pointed look, "I do know the meaning of discretion, and I know when a little... tactical diversion is in order. It wouldn't do to have people like Miguel figuring out. Besides, we were working together. As I said before, office romances tend to get messy."

"I thought you were riling me about Kayla, not telling me in some bizarrely subtle way to hang in there and wait for you until our clerkship was over." In a way, it shouldn't have surprised him. It was just like Julian to do such a thing.

"I thought you were smart enough to get the message. Turns out I was wrong."

"Sometimes I really don't like you," Jerry said, only slightly exasperated, before he leaned in and kissed Julian.

"In the interest of your career, I hope you're more convincing at court." The smirk on Julian's lips was entirely too self-satisfied, and Jerry thought he'd have to find a way to wipe it off and try to replace it with that lazy smile that he'd seen far too rarely since that Sunday afternoon in the coffee shop. He had an idea or two how to make it reappear.

End.


End file.
